“The hotel should be thoroughly done over,” declared Mrs. Bruce, “the walls chinked with cement and the steampipes looked to, or else in common honesty a placard should be nailed up, reading: ‘For show only!’ If ever I was grateful for anything, it is that you had planned to go this morning, anyway. I shouldn’t have had the force to argue or persuade you.” Irving thought of his own nocturnal perambulations, and turned toward the seat behind, where Mrs. Nixon was seated with her brother. Her countenance wore a forbidding expression. “Were you unfortunate also?” he asked. “Really, Mr. Bruce,” she replied with deliberate distinctness, “I should not expect it to be a matter of general interest if I had been. Perhaps you remember what Emerson says apropos of retailing woes of that character to one’s morning companions. I quite agree with him.” Having thus delivered herself, the lady’s lips closed in the curves of beauty which nature had bestowed upon them, and she again gave her attention to the landscape. Mrs. Bruce made a grimace as she met her son’s amused eyes. “Now,” she thought, “I suppose she thinks she is even with me for last evening.” Mr. Derwent, unconscious of injuring his sister’s effect, addressed Mrs. Nixon. “You look done up, Marion. I am sorry you passed such a disturbed night.” Mrs. Bruce pressed Irving’s arm and gave him a malicious side glance. “You should all be equipped like myself for traveling,” continued Mr. Derwent rather grimly, “and take off your ear when you go to bed.” “Poor gentleman,” thought Betsy. “How gladly he would lie awake to hear his neighbors, and if he could listen to the radiators snap, it would be music to him, I’ve no doubt.” She glanced around at him. He had his hands crossed on the head of his stick in his usual posture. “I wonder if I’ll ever dare talk to him! He looked so kind at Rosalie yesterday. If the fish bite good, perhaps Mr. Irving’ll forget her. Here’s hopin’ they will! I meant to have a real good visit with the child to-day. I must send her a card when we stop for lunch.” At the Thumb, Betsy had a chance to do this. As soon as Mrs. Bruce discovered that they might make the remainder of their trip by water, she urged it. “I would just as lief go separately from Mrs. Nixon,” she said to her son, “until she has had a night’s sleep. Find out, Irving, whether they’re going by boat.” It proved that all the places on the boat had been engaged, and as soon as Mrs. Bruce discovered this, her desire to proceed in that way was augmented; and many were the alterations she suggested in a management which contained possibilities of such poignant disappointment as hers. Mrs. Nixon preserved a magnificent silence; but looked graciously upon her child, whose sallies appeared to have amused Miss Maynard out of her habitual demureness. “They seem to get on very well together,” she remarked to her brother at a moment when they were alone.